A Night at the Kershaw :: Elizabeth & Mr Darcy
by Lady Kerby
Summary: Lizzington Shippers Secret Hiatus 2015. This is dedicated to the adorable Sunni. I was not given a specific prompt. Sunni told me that she loves drama! So here we go! This was SUPPOSED to be a one shot, but the little bunny multiplied into a multi chapter AU Series! Regular disclosures apply, I don't own the characters, they are just on loan from NBC ;)
1. The Invisible Benefactor

It had been twenty-six years since the night of that fire; the fire that changed his life, and hers forever. The Clandestine Production Company took everything from him that night, and in the process of trying to save those he loved, he had scars, both mentally and physically, that would forever remind him of that event.

The Kershaw Theater was on the verge of closure, until he showed up to turn it around. With his unconventional ways of producing and directing, and his dedication, he not only got into the hearts and minds of his audience, but also one special actress.

It was a bitterly cold December, Monday morning in Manhattan, New York. The Kershaw Theater sat nestled on Central Park West, with gorgeous views of the park itself. The theater was antique, like the neighborhood around it, but the invisible benefactor that owned the structure made sure it was well maintained. There was a time, back in the day, when this majestic theater would entertain thousands of satisfied customers every week, keeping them captivated and on the edge of their seats; but now, as actors had come and gone, and with the number of theaters in the area increasing all the time, the Kershaw's audiences had dwindled. Now, due to that serious lack of patrons, the Kershaw Theater was teetering on the brink of closure, or having to be sold; only one offer sat on the table, from the mysteriously named Clandestine Production Company.

Harold Cooper, the Kershaw's house and stage manager, sat in his office thumbing through piles of scripts, trying to decide on a new production that just might save the theater. His eyes glazed over, resigned to the fact that maybe it was time get out of the theater business. He looked up at the clock; it was ten-thirty in the morning, and the company would be arriving at any moment. He got up from his desk, went downstairs to the stage, and waited for the cast.

During the morning meeting, several ideas were tossed around for plays to do for the spring performance, most of which were shot down by the crew. Just as Cooper was ready to tell them he was throwing in the towel, the door to the front of the house swung open. The silhouette of a man wearing a fedora appeared. After pausing, seemingly for dramatic effect, the man walked through the door and down the aisle.

As he got closer, more of his features came into focus. He was average in height, middle-aged, and impeccably dressed; he was wearing what appeared to be a custom tailored, three-piece, chocolate brown pin-stripe suit with a navy blue vest and a coordinated tie. Perched on the top of his head was a matching indigo fedora. A plaid blue-grey scarf, and a black heavy topcoat completed his prestigious attire.

Even from the stage it was impossible not to feel the presence and charisma of the man and most of the cast sat in awe as he walked gracefully through the theater and up to the front of the stage; there was such an impressive aura about him. He stopped, and looked up at all of them, pausing again, like a lead actor about to deliver his monologue, and who wanted to be certain his audience was looking him and no one else. Then he ascended the stairs and stood in the middle of the semi-circle of chairs, Cooper took a seat in an empty chair on the end.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. I would like to introduce myself. My name is Raymond Reddington." Several gasps escaped from the mouths of the cast in front of him.

He couldn't help but feel pleased that even after twenty-six years away from theatre production and directing, his name still carried weight and created awe. He felt grateful not to have been forgotten. It felt ... right ... to be back, to be here in a theatre, **his** theatre, again. To look at a stage and imagine the wonders he could create with the characters and stories that he would present to audiences, as a child would show their prized artwork to their parents. He was sure that he had not lost his touch.

He couldn't wait to get started, and he could almost taste his anticipation. It had been too long, but now, he needed to be involved again. For her. He couldn't stand in the wings any longer. He needed to be within arms reach of her. And this was the very best way he knew how.

He watched their faces absorb the shock as they recognized his name. And he knew that none of them would speak of his past; most of them were mere children when it happened, and they would definitely be silent if he offered them job security, but made it clear that it was on the condition that they not talk about what they knew or remembered. At least to begin with, he knew they would respect that. Maybe later, when they came to know him better, they might venture to speak of ... things. But, initially, he knew he could prevent that.

The night of that fire, he lost everything; his wife, his only daughter, and numerous friends and colleagues. Sure, there had been reports of the fire, but none of them told the **real** story. None of the reports told the **truth** of the events of that night. It took him ten years to finally piece all of the facts together, and find himself again. And he'd spent the last sixteen years looking out for, and protecting, *her*.

Reddington had been well known in the theater community for almost ten years prior to the fire. He was a legend in the world of stage production. He had been only eighteen when he produced and directed his first show. He had made a name for himself and everyone had been willing to pay top dollar to have Reddington as their director. Back then. But he had been away so long … too long.

"Ah, it seems like my reputation precedes me," he said, smiling widely. "You may be wondering why I'm here … Well, for starters, I own this theater, and I have been watching it fall further and further into debt for some time now. Of course that is no fault of yours." He looked at Cooper and his words reeked of sarcasm. "I can tell you, though, that the theater is one step away from being sold, and if that happens, you will all, of course, be out of a job. The Clandestine Production Company, which is looking to purchase the Kershaw, doesn't care if you have mouths to feed, or if you're behind on your rent, they **only** care about making money for themselves. And believe me when I tell you, they will use whatever means necessary to accomplish that." Reddington saw the fear in the eyes of the company members sitting before him, however he was not there for them, not really. He was there for himself, and one special actress.

"I've stood by long enough, and I'm here now to turn this theater around. For those that don't know me, or my work, I have produced more shows than you have collectively got fingers and toes …"

Cooper cut him off. "What exactly do you think you can do, that we haven't tried already, Reddington?"

Ignoring the comment from Cooper, he continued, "I have worked with the best and the brightest actors and actresses. I am a hard ass, and I will make you work. Most of you were still in diapers when I was at the top of my game." He paused. "But before we go any further though, I have one condition that **must** be met, if you want me to help turn this place around and save all your careers."

"And what is that?" Cooper asked flatly.

"You're to hire Elizabeth Milhoan as your lead actress," Reddington said, smiling grandly.

"And who the hell is Elizabeth Milhoan?" A younger male voice spoke, from the back of the group.

Reddington looked at the young, strawberry- blonde haired man. "Do we have 'Captain America' in our midst today? Who are you?" Reddington asked.

"Ressler. Donny Ressler. You got a problem with that?" Ressler said, trying to sound tough.

Reddington walked over and grabbed his arm, making the young man stand up quickly. He looked him up and down, before shaking his head in seeming resigned acceptance. "I guess you'll do. Sit down."

Turning back to Cooper, Reddington continued, "Elizabeth Milhoan. She just graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. You find her, and then we'll talk production." Then turning, Reddington left the stage. Walking back down the aisle and out the door in a dramatic exit to match that of his entrance.

The cast and crew looked to Cooper. "Well, then. I guess I have some work to do. Has anyone ever heard of this Milhoan gal?" Cooper was looking to his team for any insight. Blank stares were all he was met with. "Okay … I guess I'll have you guys do some minor exercises and spring cleaning, while I hunt down Miss Milhoan."


	2. Miss Milhoan

Two days had passed since Raymond Reddington came waltzing into the Kershaw Theater. Cooper had spent those two days desperately trying to find Elizabeth Milhoan; the **one** actress that Reddington insisted on having. It was on the third day, as Cooper was arriving at the theater, that a young woman stopped him. She was in her early thirties, with long brunette hair, and her rosy cheeks stood out against her flawless pale skin.

"Mr. Cooper?… Hello … Er, good morning." She stretched out a gloved hand to shake his. "My name is Elizabeth Milhoan, and I was wondering if you had any openings for cast members in your theater? There was a note left on my door this morning, informing me that there might be some and that I should make inquires." Cooper froze, and then met her hand with his.

"Good morning, Miss Milhoan. It's an interesting coincidence that you are here … I've actually been looking for you. Please, come in where it's warm, and let's talk."

He led her to his office and they talked for over an hour. He went over her credentials and resume, trying to find out why Reddington thought she was so special. A fresh graduate, no experience in theater, or cinema, barely any work experience at all in fact, except for a job at a local coffee shop while she was in school, one or two parts in chorus lines, and some walk-on roles in productions Cooper had never heard of. Elizabeth explained that she had started out at Columbia University majoring in Criminal Profiling, but due to the poor grades she received, she chose to move on to her second love, acting. Cooper sent Elizabeth off to the stage, while he made a call to Reddington.

Elizabeth slowly made her way through the theater and saw a group of people on the stage surrounding an older man sitting upon a stool. She ascended the stairs, hesitantly, and couldn't help but notice that the man was well dressed, and unquestionably quite attractive. As she was admiring the man from the top of the stairs, he glanced in her direction, and said abruptly, "Ah! Lizzie! I'm glad you could join us today." A beaming smile spread across his face. She could feel her cheeks grow warm, as all eyes were now on her.

As Lizzie started to approach, Reddington waved his hand and the crew dispersed into the wings, leaving Lizzie alone with him.

The man extended his hand to her. "Lizzie, what a pleasure."

She looked at him, confused, unconsciously meeting his hand to shake it. "And… you are?"

Chuckling, he replied, "I quite forgot, where are my manners? My name is Raymond Reddington."

She jerked her hand from his, gasping. " **THE** Raymond Reddington?" She was awe struck to be standing on stage with the infamous Raymond Reddington. The 'Ambassador of Angst'. The 'Concierge of Conflict'.

His impeccable smile grew even broader. "The very same. My dear, we have a big day ahead of us. Are you ready?"

"For what, exactly? I'm not even sure why I'm here," she said suspiciously.

"For everything. I'm going to make you famous, Lizzie. You are my new lead actress."

She stood frozen, the words trembling from her lips. "L … lead actress? Wait. What? I'm the new lead? Why me? I just graduated. There must be some mistake? I mean … I'm nothing special."

"Oh, I think you're very special," he said seductively. His words charmed her.

Just as she was preparing to speak again, Cooper and the cast came back to the center of the stage and everyone sat back down in their seats. Reddington stood up from his stool and cleared his throat.

"Alright, folks. Now that Miss Milhoan …" he turned and smiled at her, "… Lizzie … has arrived; we have a full cast, so let's get down to business. First order, I need to introduce my team. If for any reason I can't be reached, you will go through my personal assistant, Dembe."

From stage right, a tall, equally attractive, dark skinned man, in his thirties emerged. Lizzie felt like she was could drown in his chocolate-brown skin. He was dressed all in black; neatly creased dress pants, a silk button down shirt and a form-fitting suit jacket. Reddington continued.

"Next, I would like to introduce my technical director and set designer. She has been part of my personal team for well over thirty years. This is Kate Kaplan." From the same area of the stage that Dembe had come from, an older lady, at least ten years Reddington's senior appeared. She was short, her black pumps the only thing giving her any semblance of height; her dark brown hair was falling right to her chin, and strands, which held a hint of grey, framed her face to a striking effect. She was dressed in a beautiful grey, pinstripe skirt suit.

"Lastly, This is Luli. She will be performing any small female roles." A young Asian woman emerged from stage left. She had gorgeous long straight black hair, and was very chicly dressed in a pair of maroon skinny jeans, a black low cut V-neck top with a black fitted blazer. Her strappy stiletto sandals completed her outfit, making her tower over Reddington as she stood next him.

"Cooper, who do you have for a publicist? Do I need to bring in my girl?"

"We have an amazing girl. She has been working for me for about two years now. Her name is Meera Malik."

"And … she is where? She should be present for the staff meetings." Reddington appeared to be irritated that the entire staff wasn't present.

"She's … out of the office right now." Cooper tried to sound convincing. A small chuckle came from the group.

Reddington shook his head, making a mental note to look into the absence of Miss Malik, then moved on with his tasks. "Alright then. I assume that you still have Aram on staff as your theatre technician?"

"We do, and we had to hire a new costume designer though. He comes with amazing credentials. His name is R.C. Saline," Cooper replied. "He has also proven to be a fantastic props master as well."

Red acknowledged Cooper, and then continued. "Lastly, let's discuss the production I have chosen to revive the fortunes of this wonderful little theater." A surge of energy ran through the group; excitement at what this man was bringing to the table. "We will be performing … _Pride and Prejudice_." There were mixed emotions in the group, but Lizzie could barely hide her excitement. This was one of her favorite stories. She thought back to her teenage years when she had drifted around with long sections of Austen firmly embedded in her overly romantic brain, wishing she could marry someone like Mr. Darcy.

Lizzie caught Reddington's glance towards her, and she quickly turned her head, as if that was going to hide her embarrassment. Red grabbed a stack of scripts and started to hand them out.

"So, when do we audition for the parts?" Ressler questioned.

"You don't audition for my productions, Donny, I give you your parts," Red responded, not missing a beat. "Therefore, Ressler, you will be playing the role of Mr. Bingley, and Luli, you will be playing your opposite as Jane Bennet. As for Elizabeth Bennet, that role will be going to Lizzie." Red finished handing out parts and the rest of the scripts to the other members of the cast, then handed his notes to Kate, Aram, and Saline. "In order to be prepared for rehearsals, I will be sending you all home to practice your parts. I expect you to have most, if not ALL, of your lines memorized by eight am Friday morning. Be back here, ready to go." He waved his hand again in dismissal and the cast and crew began to gather their things.

Lizzie picked up her bag and walked cautiously towards Reddington. He was talking to Dembe, and she waited patiently until they were finished. "Excuse me Mr. Reddington …"

He cut her off. "Please, Lizzie, call me Red, or even better, call me Raymond." A boyish grin formed across his lips.

"Ummm … Red … I was wondering. You addressed the other lead roles, except for one. Who will I be playing opposite? Who is playing Mr. Darcy?"

He chuckled. "I didn't address that on purpose. Your Mr. Darcy will be played by … me."

"How can you play a lead and direct at the same time?" Lizzie was trying to hide her surprise.

"My dear, that's what makes my productions so successful. I implant myself into everything I do, and touch." His words were dripping with seduction, his lascivious smile was intoxicating to her, and she couldn't figure out why this man was able to make her feel so aroused. She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the rather erotic thoughts she suddenly had running through it.

"I'll see you Friday morning." Lizzie tried not to sound roused.

"I look forward to working with you Lizzie; we're going to make a great team!" Red turned on his heels and disappeared through the curtains.


	3. Rehearsals

Friday morning brought several groggy cast members to the stage. Eight am was early for this crew, and Red could tell this wasn't going to be easy. Kate had set up the stage for the rehearsals, using only a few period appropriate chairs, a pianoforte, a chaise longue, and a writing desk. Red favored simplistic stage design, as it allowed the audience to focus on the cast, and not just the set. The rehearsals went more smoothly than he had expected, as most of the cast had their lines memorized. Ressler seemed to be the only one that continually needed help. Red was in awe, though, of how well Lizzie had done that day. He'd half hoped that she was going to need help, as he was ready and willing to assist in any way he could.

After rehearsals were completed, Red and Cooper went over notes, and tried to decide on an opening date. Eventually, they settled on Saturday, February the seventh. That gave them a little over eight weeks, just enough time to perfect the show and also provide a little birthday present for Reddington.

Four weeks had gone by and Red was blown away at how well the show was coming along. It was sad to think that with a crew this good, the theater was still failing. But he had no intentions of letting The Clandestine Production Company get the best of him, let alone the last of him.

Meera had finally come back from her 'hiatus'. After some work on Dembe's part, Red had found out that Meera had been working for two companies. He was in the process of gathering more intel on the other company; however, she had managed to advertise the hell out of the show, causing it to sell out, so he decided to allow her to remain on staff for now. It seemed his name had not lost any of its power to attract audiences. After one of their longer rehearsals, Lizzie approached Red, looking stressed.

"Red, I'm needing some help with the end of Act 1. There's a lot of tension between Elizabeth and Darcy at this point, and I really want to make sure that we're portraying that to the audience. She's furious with him and, to be honest, I'm having a hard time being mad at you." She appeared to be embarrassed at confessing this to him, which Red had to try extremely hard not to find adorable, even though he thought it was.

Chuckling, "Oh my dear Lizzie, we can run lines. All you had to do was ask. I have all the time in the world for you. How about you meet me at my place tonight, at say, six pm. I'll make dinner. I'm actually in the building right next door to the theater, my apartment is number 429." Before she had a chance to reject his offer, he had quickly walked away into the wings of the stage.

 _"_ _What the hell was that all about?"_ Lizzie wondered to herself. _"What is it about this man? He's just willing to drop everything for me … I wonder if he's the one that told me about the opening here in the first place? … Who is he anyway? What's so special about me?"_ Lizzie was lost in her own thoughts as she rode home from the theater.

 _"_ _It's certainly educational playing opposite Reddington, who might, technically, be a little old for the part of Fitzwilliam Darcy but he's having no trouble portraying the proud, rather haughty character. This just showed what a fine actor he is, as well as a wonderful director … he is neither proud not haughty. And he has every reason to be both considering his successes in the theatre. Yet he is happy to share advice and take the time to explain things to me and to anyone else in the cast who seeks his advice. He is also a wonderful raconteur, and he holds everyone spellbound on many occasions with sometimes wild and often outlandish stories of his experiences and exploits in the theatre. And he is certainly handsome enough to play Darcy"_ , she thought, inconsequentially, as she neared her apartment block.

She entered her little one-bedroom apartment, shrugged off her wool jacket and kicked off her shoes before heading to the kitchen, looking for a snack. She looked at the clock; she had about two hours before she needed to meet with Red.

She decided to forgo the snack and opt for a warm bath instead to calm her nerves. She had only been working with Red for about four weeks now, but it felt like she had known him for years. She felt so close and relaxed around him. As she undressed and slid into the bathtub, she let her mind wander. She imagined being with Red. How he might be with other women, how he would be with her. She had not been with any other men since she broke up with her ex, almost a year ago. In fact she hadn't even contemplated being with any other man until Reddington. Lying there she closed her eyes and pictured him: his long, delicate, almost feminine eyelashes; his green eyes; his mouth that had an oddly endearing way of twitching or seeming to chew the inside of his cheek as he took long moments to think about what he was going to say next; and frankly, the way he tilted his head to one side was the most insanely sexy thing she'd seen that wasn't connected in some way with the one porn movie she'd seen in her life. And Red had this way of talking to her. His lascivious smiles and his seductive tones when he talked only to her, it was enough to make a woman's ovaries explode. She'd hoped that the other cast members hadn't noticed her fawning over him like a giddy high school teenager with raging hormones.

She shook her head, trying hard to get her thoughts to move from an erotic nature to that of the play. Working out the different scenes, trying to think of ways that she could portray the tension and the angst to the audience. She couldn't grasp how to get really mad at him like Elizabeth did with Darcy when he proposed marriage to her in a rather condescending fashion. She figured that Red had his ways to make it work. She finished her bath and prepared for the evening. Not knowing what to expect, she finally decided on comfort, yet cute. She paired her black skinny jeans with her black leotard, a flowing white button up shirt, and her black ballet flats. She gathered up her script and notes, and headed out.


	4. Dinner Lessons

Thank you for all of your amazing comments & love! I wanted to put a slight warning on this and the following chapter. They start to get rather dark as we dive into Lizzie's past with Tom. If you are sensitive to abuse/violence, please read with caution! Enjoy!

* * *

Lizzie stood in front of the four-story building next to the theater, trying to get the nerve to finally go up the steps and inside. _"What is the issue Liz? Why are you letting yourself act like a giddy high school teenager? He's at least twenty years your senior. What could you possibly offer him? Hell, you've only ever been with your ex, and look how that turned out. On the other hand, you were having rather indecent thoughts about him earlier. And he's rather attractive… And, it's not the first time you have been attracted to someone much older than you."_ She took one last deep breath and headed in.

The elevator ride felt like it took an eternity, and she practically jumped at the *DING* as the doors opened on the fourth floor. His apartment was at the end of the long hall, the second to last door. She stood there staring at the numbers 429; she couldn't help but laugh to herself at the coincidence, as that was her birthdate. He must have heard her, because just as she reached up to knock, the door swung open.

"Lizzie! Right on time." Red stood there dressed in his cream three-piece suit, from earlier, his tie and jacket missing, and the top two buttons of his dress shirt were undone revealing a little twist of chest hair. Lizzie could feel a butterfly farm make a nice home in her stomach, as she gazed upon him in all his glory.

"Come in. Dinner is just about ready. I hope you're hungry." She walked past him into a beautiful, spacious unit. His living room had to be bigger than her entire apartment. There were massive floor to ceiling windows that let in the most gorgeous views of Central Park. To her right was a chef's dream kitchen with stainless steel appliances and a huge stove with a large range. The island was equally impressive as it housed a wine fridge and its own separate sink. A small dining area was made up for the two of them; a crisp red tablecloth covered the round table, with two long tapered candles in the middle, and a single red rose in an antique looking silver vase sat between the candles. To her left was an alcove that appeared to lead to the bedrooms. She made her way to the couch and set her things down. She saw that the sliding glass doors led out to a veranda, the posts were covered in ivy and strands of white lights were hanging in between them.

She was startled by his words as she took in the breathtaking views. "The views are purely intoxicating, aren't they?"

"They are. This place must have cost you a small fortune. The views alone are worth at least a million dollars." She chuckled lightly, trying not to think of it as Red's personal version of Darcy's Pemberley estate, or compare it to her own pokey little apartment. You could easily fit four of her apartments into his living room alone.

"They are worth at least that much, yes. And I own the building, so it didn't cost too much," he laughed.

She could feel her nervousness begin to rise again, so she tried to break the ice a bit more. "So … what does Chef Reddington have on the menu tonight?" She bounced towards the breakfast bar, and sat on the stool. Glancing at the table as she passed, she thought to herself, _"How romantic. I wonder why he's gone to all this trouble, just for me. All we are supposed to do is run lines … or are we? I wonder if he does this with all of his female leads … or just me …"_ Her thoughts were getting the better of her once again.

He snickered. "Well, I'm no Cordon Bleu chef, but I can hold my own when I need to. On the menu tonight we will be enjoying Foie Gras for an appetizer … then we will move on to a plate of white truffles shaved over fresh pasta with a cream sauce … and we will end the evening with milk chocolate pot de crème. Of course, your choice of beverage will complete the meal." She was mesmerized by his words, and by all of the food that he had prepared for the two of them. He talked as gracefully as he walked.

They ate and talked for what felt like forever. After helping him clear the table, he mixed her an 'aviation cocktail', which he claimed tasted like spring, and he poured himself a glass of scotch. She wasn't sure if she needed any more alcohol, as she had already consumed several glasses of red wine. She sat on the couch, and Red followed suit, sitting closer than she had expected. She turned to better face him, and he mirrored her.

"So, you said earlier that you were having some reservations about the end of Act 1, correct?" he said casually.

"Yes. The point where Elizabeth and Darcy are fighting, because of a misunderstanding, there is tension and angst."

"Mmhmm, you understand the story perfectly. So, what seems to be the issue?" He continued to nurse his scotch.

Lizzie could feel her cheeks getting warmer, and wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol or from the embarrassment. "Well … it's you …"

"Me?! Have I done something wrong? Have I upset you?" His eyes widened at her.

"Oh, no, don't get me wrong. You're fantastic." She could feel her face getting hotter, as her thoughts were getting worse. "It's just that, well, I can't seem to get mad at you." She gulped down the rest of the cocktail, feeling like that would give her the courage to say what she wanted to say. She was already fighting the effects of all the alcohol from earlier. "The point is … Red … ummm … I think you're very attractive. I find myself relaxed around you, and it makes me happy and scared all at the same time." She saw the glass stop short of his luscious lips. She wanted to kiss those lips, she wanted to feel them against hers, and she wanted to know if they felt as soft as they looked.

He let out a soft, yet deep laugh. "Let me see what we can do to remedy that, Lizzie." Her heart skipped a beat, unsure of what was going to happen next. "Tell me about Tom."

She stiffened; his words stung her hard. Confused she tried to process how he even knew about her ex. "How do you … It's been almost a year … Wait …"

"Tell me about Tom, Lizzie. Why did the two of you break up? What happened?" he said insistently.

"Why is that any of your business? And what does that have to do with this play? How is knowing about my ex going to help me, or you, at all?" Lizzie was irritated and confused, and the room was beginning to spin. _"What right does this guy have to pry into my past? What does it matter? Sure Tom was abusive, smacking me around when he was drunk, and he cheated on me with that stupid actress, Lucy."_ All of the feelings and thoughts that she had tried to rid herself of over the last year, were all flooding back. She sat there in a huff, watching him chug the last of his scotch. She played out scenarios in her head of slapping him, punching him, or just getting up and walking out.

"Just trust me. Tell me about Tom." His eyes narrowed, and he moved closer.

Feeling tipsier that she would like, she took a deep breath, half hoping that would make the room stop moving.

"The straw that broke the camel's back, he was cheating on me. It was with an actress named Lucy Brooks. It was over a year ago. He was in England doing a version of _Oh! Calcutta_." She paused and saw Red shudder at the name of the play. "I guess she was too much to handle, or so he said. He claims 'he just couldn't resist her anymore', and 'just had to'." Lizzie shook her head, her thoughts about Tom and their failed relationship disgusting her.

"So his abuse didn't play a factor?" Red interjected.

"How the hell do you know about the abuse?" Lizzie was shocked.

"When you've been in this business as long as I have, you hear things … You know what to look for to determine the truthfulness of the rumors. You decided to go to acting school, and that's when it started didn't it? You almost missed the enrollment deadlines due to one bad night?"

Lizzie sat there frozen in silence, listening to Red. It was like he had been there the whole time, almost like he had been her next-door neighbor. She still felt bad for her neighbors. The fights that she and Tom had been enough to have the cops called, somehow they never were though. Perhaps her neighbors hadn't wanted to get involved. Maybe, looking back, she shouldn't feel sorry for them. They had to have heard the screams, the abuse, and yet, they'd done nothing.

She picked up where Red stopped. "We had just finished a 'romantic' dinner. After the third bottle of wine, things got out of control … I don't even remember what set him off. Maybe the fact that I said I started school in the morning? He was so angry … He threw everything he could touch, and when he ran out of things to throw, he just … he went after me. Tom thought that I was only going into acting to 'keep an eye' on him. Like I could somehow manage to get into all of the same shows as he was in." She shook her head before continuing. "He was brutal with his gas lighting. He never thought that I was any good, at anything. He would tell me every day how bad a person I was; how I would never amount to anything good … he even told me once that I should just end it all … he told me that everyone would be happier if I was dead." Tears were streaming down her face now. She had hoped she would never have to relive any of this ever again. She had no idea why she had just confessed everything to Red. No one knew about the abuse. She'd made sure to keep it a secret, hiding the bruises with makeup and long sleeved shirts. She didn't know what it was about Reddington that made her feel like she could trust him. She felt like she could talk to him like they'd been best friends since childhood.

Red moved in, now sitting as close as he could. He pulled her into him, her head resting on his shoulder. She could feel him caressing her hair.

"Shhhh… everything is going to be all right. I think this is enough for tonight. We can pick this up tomorrow if you'd like. It's Sunday, so no rehearsals." His voice soft and low.

She was so happy and safe in his arms; she never wanted it to end. She slowly moved her right leg swinging it across his lap, trying to close the gap between them. She could feel the weight of her tiredness, trying to fight it off. The last thing she remembered him saying was _"You're safe now. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."_

Red could feel her relaxing in his arms as he held her and caressed her hair. He inhaled deeply, she smelled so sweet, and flowery, her perfume was intoxicating to his senses. He could tell that she had consumed too much alcohol that night. She had appeared to be handling the drinks just fine and then, suddenly, it seemed to catch up with her. He had never expected it to make her this drunk, just a few drinks to ease the stress from rehearsals, to help her loosen up and relax. He grabbed her left leg up next to the right, and pulled her onto his lap, cradling her like a child. He continued to whisper in her ears, "Shhhh… Everything is going to be all right. You're safe now. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. No one will hurt you ever again."

He picked her up and walked her into the master bedroom and laid her gently across the massive four-poster bed. He went to the armoire and pulled out a blanket, then removed her shoes and covered her up. After making sure she appeared comfortable, he quietly slipped out and back to the living room.

Pouring another glass of scotch he walked out onto the veranda; the cold air was welcomed against his hot flesh. He stood there contemplating everything. She did things to him only his wife had been able to do to him. Arouse him in ways no other woman had been able to.

Raymond Reddington was not an overly complicated person; it took real effort to tug at his heart. Lizzie was doing just that. Sure she had been there the night of the fire, and he had saved her … and in a way she saved him too, but that was twenty-six years ago. She was a mere child then, not this breathtakingly beautiful woman who now lay in his bed. It had only been four weeks since he had come into contact with her again, but it felt as though they had never been apart. He was certain that she felt the connection as well. Why else would she have confessed to being attracted to him? He knew what he wanted, more than anything. He wanted her. But that was going to take time. He knew that he couldn't have her until the truth had been revealed, or remembered.


	5. Truth & Trust

Morning couldn't come quickly enough for Red, especially when it was after spending a night on the couch. His dreams, more like nightmares, always left him feeling more tired than when he went to bed the night before. Despite the three glasses of scotch he consumed before finally falling asleep, he could still remember all the details from the night before. He remembered coming back in from the veranda, shivering from the cold, and standing in the doorway of the bedroom and just watching her sleep. The full moon shone through the window, flooding the room with a pale grey glow, catching her face and making her look angelic. He stood there for the longest time.

He let out a long sigh and then headed to the bathroom to shower, hoping that it would not wake her. After a shower and shave, in record time, he headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast. Knowing she would probably have a slight hangover, he decided on a fruit melody of bananas, kiwis and strawberries, scrambled eggs to settle her stomach, toast with sweet butter in the event she wanted something more substantial, a tall glass of orange juice, and a side of two aspirin for the headache.

As he was putting the final touches on the table, she appeared in the doorway. "Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?"

Her voice was groggy and hoarse, "Better than I should have. You've got an amazingly soft and comfortable bed." Red saw the slight blush in her cheeks as she spoke.

"Come. Sit." He pulled out her chair, and waited for her to shuffle over. "You have everything before you that will cure the worst of any hangover."

"This looks delicious. I'm going to need to go running ten miles, so Saline doesn't have to fix my dresses, before opening night if you keep feeding me like this, Red."

Red grabbed two cups of the peppermint tea that had just finished brewing, and sat next to her. He sat there sipping his tea, and watching, admiring her, while trying really hard not to stare, taking in every detail of her perfect face while she gave her full attention to the food he had prepared. Even with her bed-head and no makeup, she was gorgeous. He could sit there for hours, days even, just soaking up her beauty.

Some time had passed before she finally spoke; most of her breakfast was gone by this point. "Are you going to stare at me all day?"

His train of thought broke. Laughing, "Of course not. Are you ready to get started this morning? Or would you like to shower first? I'm sure I can scrounge something up for you to wear, or I can have Dembe grab you some things?"

"Oh, a shower would be nice, but I don't want to put you out any more than I already have. I don't want to be a bother."

"It's no bother. Lets get you cleaned up, and start the day off with a clear head." He led her back into the bedroom and he headed into the bathroom. From under the sink he gathered some less masculine toiletries, and a clean set of towels. He stood in the bathroom doorway and watched as she pulled a pair of yoga pants from her bag.

She giggled. "I always keep a pair in my bag. You never know when you might need them."

He walked to the armoire and found an old, oversized sweatshirt. "Here, this should keep you warm and then you don't have to wear the same thing from yesterday.

He left her, closing the bedroom doors to allow her the privacy to shower.

After a while she emerged from the bedroom in the yoga pants, his sweatshirt, and her hair pulled back into a high ponytail. "Ok, lets get this show on the road, shall we?" She said proudly as she came back into the living room, a small bounce in her step.

She came and sat next to him on the couch. He turned to face her. "I need you to realize that my methods could be considered a little … unconventional, but I assure you, that they are **very** successful. I need you to trust me. But if you feel the slightest bit of doubt, I want you to say so now. Are you open to my 'unconventional' methods, Lizzie? Because I can make you into the best actress out there, but you have to be open to alternative exercises." He wanted her to understand that he meant no ill will. She nodded her head in agreement. "Do you trust me? I need you to trust me. If you do, I promise I will make you famous, Lizzie."

Her response came out barely above a whisper, and if he had not been right in front of her, he would have missed it.

"Yes… I trust you."

"Ok, then. Close your eyes. Now I want you to think back to the night two years ago. It's the night before your first day at the academy." He could see her tense up. "Relax, Lizzie. Breathe. You must stay calm." He took her hands gently in his, and held them firmly, trying to avoid the scar on the inside of her right wrist. "That night, you were having dinner. You were enjoying yourself, drinking, laughing, and talking. You commented about school. That's what set him off wasn't it Lizzie?" She shook her head; the pain on her face was killing him. He started to caress her hands with his thumbs, trying to calm her. "He got angry, he threw dishes … books … chairs … and then…"

He stopped; he didn't want to say it. He knew exactly what happened that night. Red wasn't just a simple producer, not anymore. After the fire, he was forced to 'disappear', ostensibly to recover from his terrible grief and loss, but in reality it had been to recover from his injuries and investigate its cause. During that process, he made friends, even more enemies, and he learned a great deal about how the world really worked. That fire, and those who were involved, took everything that was dear to him. He had hired people to keep Liz safe, without her ever knowing it, of course. When he'd learned about what Tom was doing to her, he knew it was time to 're-emerge' from the shadows. It truly took every ounce of restraint not to deal with Tom himself. Sadly, that one night with Tom was not the only one either. He heard about how she lived with the 'gas lighting' and abuse for a year after that, before finally leaving him. Tom's time would come. Red had his ways to ensure that Tom suffered more than his Lizzie had. He'd seen the pictures, and read the reports from both his people and the police, of what Tom had done to her.

He met her eyes, and saw the shock in them. He knew he needed to explain how he knew all of this, but he couldn't tell her everything, not now. "Remember Lizzie, I have been in this business a long time, and I have the means to find things out."

"Well, if that's not a little vague. I just find it awfully strange how much you know about me, and I know so little about you." She said in a snarky tone.

"We'd be here for days if I told you everything about me and my past. The rest will come, I promise. You said you trust me, and I'll never do anything to betray that trust, Lizzie. You can be sure of one thing, I've never lied to you, and I **never** will. Are you willing to continue?" He didn't want to lose her trust. He knew the moment that trust was gone she would be as well.

She nodded. He acknowledged her quietly, and continued carefully. "He hit you … First just across the face, then your ribs, and stomach. You came back at him. You used what you knew about him and Lucy. Then it got worse." He saw Lizzie breathing harder now, shorter breaths, her face flushed. "Lizzie open your eyes, take a deep calming breath, and look at me." She did as she was instructed. He could see the fury in her eyes.

Red began his lines, just short of the end of Act 1, and without skipping a beat Lizzie fell right into character:

 _Darcy: You take an eager interest in that gentleman's concerns_

 _Elizabeth: Knowing his misfortunes who would not feel an interest in him?_

 _D: His misfortunes!_

 _E: And of your infliction. You have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for him and yet you treat the mention of his misfortunes with contempt._

 _D: And this is your opinion of me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. These bitter accusations might have been suppressing had I, with greater policy flattered you in the belief of my being impelled by unqualified, unalloyed inclination. But disguise of every sort in my abhorrence._

 _E: The mode of your declaration has not affected me Mr. Darcy. You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it. From the very beginning your arrogance and selfish disdain for the feelings of others have built an immovable dislike. You are Mr. Darcy the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry._

 _D: You have said quite enough, Madam, I perfectly comprehend your feelings. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness._

He sat there, staring into her eyes. She blinked, snapping back to reality and then, like a dam breaking, the tears streamed down her face. He pulled her into his chest and rocked her, whispering, "I told you I'd make you the best. You were magnificent my dear, simply magnificent." She pulled away and just stared at him. Her eyes looked empty. He wasn't sure if she was displeased with his methods, or if she was satisfied.

"Now. When you're on that stage, I want you to think of that night. It will be difficult, but you can do it." He smiled, but was not prepared for what she had planned. Out of corner of his eye he saw her hand. She slapped him harder than he had ever been slapped by anyone. His face felt like it had exploded from the force. He watched in a confused stupor as she gathered her things and walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind her. _"This isn't good. Not good at all,"_ he thought to himself, as he rubbed his sore cheek.


	6. Powerless

Lizzie was furious with Red and his so called 'unconventional' ways of doing things. After getting back to her apartment and slumping down on the couch, the tears came again. Fisting the air, she started yelling, "What the HELL does he think he's doing? I got so drunk last night. What exactly did he have planned for the evening? I woke up IN his bed. Where the hell did he sleep? I've tried for so long to get those memories to finally go away … the nightmares … Last night, was the first night in over a year …" She stopped. She realized that last night was the FIRST time in a year that she had NOT had a nightmare about that evening with Tom. It was the first night, as she slept, she felt safe. Her dreams were filled with fantasies about Reddington. She blushed now, just recalling them. "How the hell am I going to perform, even stand to be in the same room, with Red?" she muttered to herself.

There was just one week left until opening night, and tensions were running high. Cooper had confronted Lizzie several times about her work with Reddington, and she assured him that all was well and that the show must go on. The last scene of the play would be the hardest for her though. The wedding … and she would have to kiss him. There hadn't been any extracurricular rehearsals with Red since that Sunday morning. Most of her anger had subsided, and she had come to the realization that he was just trying to help her and, in the end, his technique worked. She was able to call on those emotions at the drop of a hat, and as long as Red was standing there with her, she knew she was safe.

She was standing in her dressing room, having the final alterations done on her costume, when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said flatly. She saw in the reflection of the mirror that it was Red. She continued to look forward.

"Saline, would you be so kind as to leave us alone, please?" The costumier rose and left, muttering comments under his breath about opening night being so close and how was he supposed to do his job if people kept interrupting his work.

"What do you need, Red? I'm trying to get this costume fixed," Liz said, trying to sound more irritated than she was.

"How are you feeling? Are you ready for opening night?" he inquired.

"I'm fine, Red. The show must go on, despite any … conflicts … between the actors. I'm more than ready for opening night." She didn't have any real qualms with Red at this point, but he didn't know that, and that made her feel like she had the upper hand in this situation.

"Lizzie … I feel I need to apologize f …"

She cut him off. "Look Red, can we just move on from this already? I'll be ready for opening night... Can you send in Saline again, please? I would like to get out of this dress, it's getting rather uncomfortable."

"As you wish, Elizabeth." Red slowly turned to leave, but not before she caught the sadness in his eyes.

"SALINE!" He yelled, slamming the door closed as he left her dressing room.

Lizzie stood there staring into the mirror. She saw Saline enter like a timid dog. "You can finish now." She forced a smile at the poor man. As he began his work again, she started to reprimand herself in her head. _"All Red was trying to do was apologize to you Liz, what's the matter with you? You know damn good and well that he never meant to hurt you. Hell, if he wanted he could have completely taken advantage of you that night, you were so shitfaced drunk. He's a good man give him a chance! You're never going to have a producer like this one! Let alone a man that appears to care as much as he does."_ Her face must have shown the emotions that were running through her head, because Saline had stopped his work and was staring up at her.

"Miss Milhoan. I have been in this industry since I was fifteen years old. I can tell when the actors are not getting along. Please, if you don't mind me asking, is there anything I can do to help?" Saline sounded sincere.

Lizzie felt like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She never really had any close friends, and here was her costume designer offering a shoulder. She managed a half smile. "It's nothing really … ok maybe it is … Reddington helped me out with some issues I was having with my lines, but his methods … they were … upsetting. I'm over it for the most part… I think?…" Her voice trailed off.

Saline jumped in, a bit too excitedly, sounding like a gossiping teenager. "Oh my. You like him, don't you?"

She shot him a look of surprise, unable to speak. As Saline went back to work, he continued. "It's no surprise, really. Most of us can tell that there's a connection there between the two of you; there's some serious chemistry. Like I said, I've been doing this line of work for a long time Miss Milhoan, and let me tell you, I can tell when the force is strong. And it's not just from you; it's coming from Mr. Reddington as well. All right, I think we are finished here. Please take the dress off carefully, there are several pins in it, and hang it on the back of your door. I'll pick it up later." She was still standing there shocked at what this, up until now, quiet costume designer had just revealed to her. "Oh, and Miss Milhoan?" She turned to face him. "When you love someone, you have no control. That's what love is, being powerless." He turned and left her dressing room, leaving her alone to ponder.


	7. The Big Debut

Meera had done a fantastic job of promoting the show, which was partly due to the name _Raymond Reddington_ being thrown around. The cast and crew were excited for opening night, and even did a mini meet and greet, in costume, for the audience. Cooper and Reddington met with everyone backstage just prior to starting.

"As you all know, Cooper and I are so very proud of you. You've all worked so hard, and now it's time to shine. Break a leg everyone!"

The cast dispersed and prepared for the first scene. Lizzie snuck a peek from between the curtains and saw the full house. She was excited to be performing for this many people. As she scanned the crowd her eyes fell on the front row. And her heart missed several beats while her lungs seemed to stop working. Frozen, she stood in complete shock unable to think, or move. There sat Tom, front row, center. _"What the hell is he doing here?! I haven't seen him in almost a year … Why is he here? Why NOW?"_ she thought to herself. Just as her nerves and butterflies were ready to take over her entire body, she felt two hands rest on her shoulders. It was Red.

"Lizzie," he whispered, "this is your big night. I know he's there. I saw him walk in." He turned her around to face him. She didn't know if she was going to be able to do this show after all. She felt his arms slide around her, pulling her in close to him. "Lizzie, you're going to be magnificent tonight! I promise. I'm right here, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Do you still trust me?" She pulled away and looked him in the eyes. She saw something there that she'd never seen in anyone's eyes before; she saw strength and determination, she saw peace, and she saw happiness. For the first time in a year she felt invincible, as though nothing could touch her, just as long as she was in his arms.

"Don't leave me," she pleaded with him. "Please, don't leave me. I can't do this without you."

"I'm never going to leave, Lizzie …" Kate, who was rushing to get everyone into position, cut off his words.

"Places everyone. PLACES please! One minute to overture."

Red gave her one final squeeze and kissed her on her forehead. "Break a leg, sweetheart," he whispered, and then he disappeared into the wings of stage right. She moved into the opposite wing and prepared for her opening scene. The orchestra began the overture and she watched as the curtain rose and the play began. Lizzie took her place in the chair and her lines flowed, like a stream running through the picturesque countryside. It was perfect. As the end of Act 1 approached, she had no nervousness and no reservations. She stared Red in the eyes and delivered her part flawlessly. She saw a slight stitch of a smile in his lips, as he tried not to break character. That small smile was so reassuring to her. During the intermission and costume change, she felt a subtle squeeze on her elbow. She didn't have to look to see who it was; she knew it was Red.

Act 2 began, and flowed even better than the first. It was if the entire cast was in perfect sync, everyone was on their marks, and the lines were delivered without any issues. Lizzie could feel the tension start to rise in her stomach as the finale quickly neared. In all of the rehearsals, the kiss had never been practiced. She figured that Red didn't want it to look "rehearsed".

As she finished up the last lines with Mr. Bennet, the lights went black and she quickly ran to the wings for her final costume change. The narrator began to 'set up' the final scene, as she and Red are ushered onto the stage by Kate.

 ** _We move through a vast wedding party, following Elizabeth and Darcy. We meet all of our characters. Lydia and Wickham are missing. Let everyone have an end. Darcy leans in, and then pulls Elizabeth off into the shadows. We see them disappear into the park, where we see them in the moonlight. They walk further from the house, up a hill and past an outcrop of rocks. Darcy turns to Elizabeth and smiles._**

Red held out his hand and helped her onto the rocks. They sat side-by-side, and stared at the backdrop, which had been painted so that it seemed as if they were looking at the distant lights of 'Pemberley'.

 _D: Allow me, Mrs. Darcy._

 _E: How did it begin?_

 _D: I cannot fix the hour, or the spot, or the look. It was too long ago and I was in the middle before I knew it had begun._

 _E: Now be sincere, did you admire me for my impertinence?_

 _D: For the liveliness of your mind, I did._

 _E: You may as well call it impertinence, though make a virtue of it by all means. My good qualities are under your protection, and you are to exaggerate them as much as possible. And, in return, it belongs to me to find occasions for teasing and quarrelling with you as often as maybe… and I shall beg …_

Red leaned in and kissed Lizzie, stopping her from completing her lines. It was the most soft, seductive, and passionate kiss she had ever tasted. She was lost in the moment. The thunderous applause snapped her back into reality. The curtain closed leaving them alone in their moment. She pulled back and met his eyes; something had changed not only in him, but in her as well. Something had been born this night.


	8. Puttin' On The Ritz

Red pulled away from the kiss that he had been waiting, rather impatiently for. He'd made it a point not to rehearse this part of the scene with Lizzie. He didn't want it to look or feel prepared, and he wanted the moment, even if it was just acted, to be special; he wanted it to **feel** special. He wanted that raw emotion to show. He could see in her eyes that something had changed in that moment. They had officially reached a point of no return. From this point forward, things would never be the same, and it scared him slightly.

The audience graced the cast with a standing ovation, demanding an encore. Red tried to hide the tears of joy. He was back in his grove again. After twenty–six years, he was back, and it felt good. The audience chanted, _"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"_ He looked to his Lizzie, grabbed her hand and they walked downstage, he gave her a twirl, dipped her and pulled her in for another deep passionate kiss. The crowd cheered, and the clapping grower louder with every second he held her there. He broke away for air, keeping her dipped and just gazed into her eyes, smiling. He brought her back up and spun her out.

The last curtain call finished and the cast changed out of their costumes. Red called everyone over. As the cast and crew assembled there was a buzz in the air about Red and Lizzie's kiss and the chemistry that was clearly evident between them.

"I have a special surprise for everyone here. Outside you will find a large bus. We will be having a night on the town. I realize that this is just opening night, but you have all worked so hard and deserve it!"

He felt that they needed a reward for all the time and hard work that they had put in. He wanted them to feel like the celebrities that they were, especially Lizzie. He had even more planned for her.

The excitement that ran through the group made the arrangements that he'd made all worth it. He led the entourage out to the bus, holding out his arm for Lizzie, she slipped hers in, and they were on their way. It would have been a shorter trip, but Red had told Dembe to take the long way around Central Park to the destination.

Lizzie leaned over and whispered, "Red, were are you taking us?"

He smiled at her. As the bus rolled to a stop, gasps came from the passengers. Murmurs about the Ritz-Carlton began to buzz through the vehicle. Red stood and addressed the group. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the Central Park Ritz-Carlton. We have the gorgeous Emery Roth Room for the rest of the evening. There is an open bar, and dinner will be served at nine pm. There is no performance tomorrow, so please, enjoy yourselves." The company exited, leaving Red and Lizzie alone, in the back of the bus.

"Why are you doing all of this Red? What happens if the rest of the performances are total flops? What if …"

He pressed his finger to her lips to stop her.

"My shows never flop, Lizzie, and this is why. I take care of my company. I treat them exactly how they should be treated: like celebrities. I have found over the years that if you want a company to be the finest you treat them as such. I do this because I care, I do this because I am the best, and I only desire the best for my people." He stopped for a moment, reaching down and lifted her chin, meeting her eyes. "I do this, because **you** deserve the best." He leaned down, and placing both hands on her cheeks he kissed her on the forehead. Grabbing her hands he lifted her to her feet and they exited to join the rest of the cast.

The Ritz was as beautiful as Red remembered it. The grand foyer was decorated with fresh cut roses, and the smell hit you as you came through the doors. As they entered the Emery Roth Room, it too was elegantly decorated. The tables had black cloths with white linen squares draped across, and gorgeous red rose topiaries accented the center of each table. Sporadically placed around the room were black and white framed pictures, of the cast and crew, which had been taken by Dembe during rehearsals. In addition to the bar, Red had arranged for a DJ to provide entertainment.

Everyone was in awe of the beauty and magnitude of the room, Lizzie especially. Red sat back and enjoyed the excitement of the company. He loved making people happy. _"Whoever said money can't buy happiness was simply delusional,"_ he thought to himself, chuckling.

The night seemed to outlast many of the partiers. Red arranged for Dembe take the intoxicated members home. Lizzie, again had succumbed to one too many drinks, and Red couldn't bear to watch her stumble any longer. Walking up behind her, he slid his arms slowly around her waist, nuzzling her hair and neck. She swung around yelling at him.

"Just whzo dco you tohink you are, mister? Imsickofyourshit! Git your damn fiplthy hands off me. Glet gno of me you monster!" Red let go, shocked by what was coming out of Lizzie's mouth. _"Who does she think I am?"_ He saw her swing her arm up as if to throw a punch at him, and he caught it mid swing.

"I think that's just about enough to drink for tonight Lizzie." He grabbed the wine glass from her other hand and set it down on the table.

"Please see that the rest of the guests get home safely, Kate."

Struggling with Lizzie, he tried to reason with her. "Umph, ok my dear … Woah, now … Let's get upstairs and lay you down." Red was so glad that it was just the two of them in the elevator, because Lizzie was all over him.

"I'm spo sorry babze… Pleaqse fosrgive me?.. Uggg… Ish don't feevl so ghood."

He managed to get her into the suite and to the sink before she threw up. He held her hair back as she finished, his heart sinking. This is not how he wanted the night to end, for either of them. Then he lifted her up and carried her into the bedroom, and laid her gently on the bed. He grabbed some aspirin and a glass of water, coaxing her to take them before she fell completely asleep.

He had taken the liberty of shopping for her a few days before, gathering clothing and toiletries that she may need or want, packing it neatly in a suitcase. He rummaged through it, and found a pair of silky pajama pants and a sweater. He grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and started to clean her up, wiping her face and hair. He slowly striped her down to her underthings. He stopped, and stood over her for a brief moment, admiring her stunning beauty, as she lay there in just her black lace bra and matching lace boy shorts. He delicately dressed her in the clean clothing, and then covered her with the overstuffed comforter. He shook his head, realizing that this was becoming too much of a habit. He kissed her gently on her temple and slipped out of the room. As he entered the sitting area, Dembe was seated, waiting for him.

"Raymond. What are you doing?" Dembe questioned.

Red walked over to the wet bar and poured himself and his friend a glass of scotch. "What do you mean Dembe?"

"About Elizabeth. What are you doing? What exactly were your plans for this evening?"

"My plans are my own business, Dembe. Why do want to know so badly?" Red replied harshly, sitting in the chair across from his friend, and handing him a glass of the golden liquid.

"Don't act like that, Raymond. We've been friends a long time. I don't want to see you get hurt, and I don't want to see you lose her. I know what happened that night, and I know what she means to you. You care for her the way you cared for your wife." Dembe sounded sincere.

Red chuckled. "I'm not going to lose her, because I'm not going to do anything that would make it so. I had no intentions, actually, for tonight. I wanted to show her a good time at the party downstairs, and then allow her to sleep for a night in the lap of luxury. There were no sexual intentions at all my friend. I'm not ready for that and, I can assure you, neither is she. I just wanted her to feel like the queen that she is."

"And you're her knight," Dembe joked, taking another sip from his glass.

"The knight to his queen on this crazy chess board of life, my friend."

"Crazy indeed, Raymond. Crazy indeed." Dembe lifted his glass and toasted to Red.

The two men sat and talked for hours, eventually watching the sun rise on the horizon. Red knew that it had been a long, painful and difficult road to where he sat at that moment, and as he glanced towards the bedroom, he knew that it was only going to get worse, before it got any better.


	9. Breakfast At Tiffany's

After watching the sunrise with his friend, Dembe excused himself and went down the hall to his suite to try and get some sleep. Red grabbed the paper from in front of the door and sat down to read it. He went straight for the entertainment section, knowing that there would be an article about the show.

 _"_ _Jane Austen is revered as being an author and woman ahead of her time; her biting social commentary and gumption made her romantic novels something we still value today. Pride and Prejudice opened at the Kershaw on Saturday, February the seventh. The story is one that people seem very protective of; if it's changed too much or something is left out, then its just not the same and can't truly be enjoyed. Like seeing the movie before reading the book, I had no preconceived ideas before seeing this production, and enjoyed the wit of Pride and Prejudice very much. The infamous Raymond Reddington played the misunderstood Mr. Darcy, and his female lead, an up and coming new actress, Elizabeth Milhoan, in her first major stage role, played the beautiful Elizabeth Bennet. The chemistry between these two was tantalizing, and we truly hope for more from them in the future; they were a true match made in heaven."_

There was quite a bit more about the rest of the cast and the reviewer's general enjoyment and enthusiasm for the theatre's production, but he only scanned through that. Pleasantly surprised with the review, Red tossed the paper aside. With his stomach growling, he glanced at the wall clock, noticing it was nearing eight o'clock. He decided it was time to shower and call for room service. He called in his breakfast order then walked towards the bedroom. He stood in the doorway and took a moment to appreciate what his eyes beheld: the sun shining through the sheer drapes, bathing her face and hair in its glow. She appeared so peaceful in her sleep. He quietly moved into the room, gathered his things and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door softly so as to not wake Lizzie.

The sun was gleaming through the drapes falling on Lizzie's face when she woke up; her eyes were heavy from the deep sleep she had been in. Sitting up slowly, she surveyed her surroundings, not recognizing the room, or even remembering how she got here. She looked down and saw that her clothing had been changed; a cold chill of fear ran down her spine. She could hear the shower running, and her mind began to race. _"Where am I? How did I get here? Who is here with me? This room is amazing. It's so beautiful."_ She got up from the bed and walked to the window, admiring the breathtaking views of the city skyline and Central Park. She decided to explore the rest of the suite.

The sitting room was elegantly decorated in muted tones of greys, ivories and golds, with overstuffed furniture, dark wood tables and bright pink orchids which added both color and a beautiful scent. There was a knock at the door, and for a moment she wasn't sure if she should answer it. A second knock came, and the voice on the other side of the door announced, "Room Service". She opened the door and the attendant entered.

"Good morning, Mrs. Reddington. Where would you like me to set up?" the attendant asked.

Feeling uneasy at being addressed as _Mrs. Reddington_ , she stumbled on her words. "Umm, I guess by the sofa is fine, thank you."

"Yes, Madam." He wheeled the cart to the sofa and began to read off the order to her. It sounded like enough food to feed an army.

"Is there anything else you require, Madam?" Lizzie shook her head.

"When you are finished, you may leave the cart in the hall, or call to have it picked up. Thank you Mrs. Reddington, and have a nice day."

The attendant left, closing the door behind him softly. She stood frozen, not knowing what to do next. She was in a strange, lavish but still strange, hotel room, there was a stranger in the shower, and she was being addressed as _Mrs. Reddington_. " _What the HELL happened last night?"_

She wandered back into the bedroom, and heard the shower turn off. She sat at the foot of the oversized four-poster bed and waited to see who emerged from the bathroom. A few minutes went by and Red came sauntering out with a towel around his waist and his robe tied very loosely. She had nowhere to hide the embarrassment growing in her face.

"Ah, Lizzie. You're awake. How are you feeling this morning? I hope the aspirin helped last night. You were quite drunk."

The night vaguely started to come back to her. She groaned and hid her face in her hands when she remembered throwing up in the sink. Then the words came rushing back.

"Red, I'm so sorry for last night. If there was any mess … please let me pay for the damages. I'm not usually this bad with alcohol. I don't know what got into me … And … I'm so sorry for everything I said… Please…" her words trailed off. She knew why she'd drunk as much as she had, but she didn't want to admit it to Red. It was all because Tom had showed up last night at the theater. She wanted to drown him out of her head, out of her life. She wished deep down that there were something that she, or anyone, could do to make him go away for good.

Red walked over to her and lifted her chin with his first two fingers. "Lizzie, I'm not stupid. I know full well why you did what you did. I knew the moment that I saw Tom walk through that door that the night wasn't going to end well." She saw a frown form across his face. "I'm just sorry that last night didn't go as well as I had hoped it would."

Shaking his hand from her face, she snapped, "And what's that supposed to mean?! What exactly did you have planned for last night?" She stood up, forcing him to back up, hands on her hips, like a mother reprimanding a child.

"Woah, calm down Lizzie. It's not what you think. Let me get dressed and I'll explain." He grabbed his clothes from the closet and got dressed back in the bathroom.

She had calmed slightly while he was getting dressed, but her thoughts were still swarming at what he had planned for last night. She wondered what exactly his intentions were. Propping herself up on the bed, she crossed her arms, and prepared a long speech that she was going to say to him, but as he exited the bathroom, it quickly flew away, along with the missing beats of her heart. He was dressed in a purple pinstriped oxford shirt, the top two buttons undone, no tie, and khakis. Even without the vest and tie he looked impeccable and she couldn't help but think of Darcy again and how he was always described and portrayed as immaculately attired. She couldn't figure out why he was able to make her melt. No man in her life had treated her the way Red did; nor did they have the effect that he had on her. He walked over and sat down next to her on the bed.

"So?"

"My intentions were purely innocent, Lizzie. I swear. Everyone had done so well, opening night was flawless, and I wanted everyone to have a good time; I have to say some enjoyed themselves a bit more than others." He chuckled. "But for you, I wanted you to feel like royalty; to feel like the queen that you are. Not to mention … it was my birthday. Surely you must know it was all for you." He nudged her elbow, and she relaxed her arms, dropping her hands into her lap. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "I promise, I'll never do anything to hurt you, take advantage of you, or betray your trust." He paused, as if he was looking for her to respond, but she was speechless. He was sitting here declaring his devotion, and all she could do was stare. "Look, let's try this again, shall we? Take two!" He let go of her hand, patted her thigh, stood up, and put out his arm. "Miss Milhoan, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to breakfast? I hear the French toast is to die for." A boyish grin appeared across his face.

Unable to contain a giggle, she scooted across the bed and he helped her up, leading her into the sitting area. She sat, as he removed the cloche to reveal the mouthwatering breakfast he had ordered. Thick, golden French toast; large, ripe red strawberries and a rich pecan flavored syrup sat upon the first set of plates. He lifted another cloche, and she was met with scrambled eggs and long, thick, crispy strips of bacon. There were also wine glasses filled with orange juice, and cups filled with coffee rested in delicate saucers. He sat down next to her and they began to eat. She took her time savoring every last bite of food that he had laid in front of her. She really did feel like royalty. She wanted to stop time and live in the moment; she found herself yearning to be in his presence, forever.

They sat and talked for a long while. He asked her subtle leading questions and she talked. She loved that he was willing to just listen to her yammer. Tom never let her talk like this. She told stories of her childhood, what she could remember, of high school boyfriends, or the lack there of, and how she acquired a love for acting. It was all because of her adoptive father taking her to see _My Fair Lady_ on Broadway during her senior year. She loved the chemistry between the actors portraying Eliza and Higgins. As she reminisced about the performance, she saw a change in Red's face. It was as though he had had an epiphany. Stopping, she inquired about the sudden change.

"What's wrong, Red?"

"Absolutely nothing, my dear. I have a splendid idea. Stay right here." He leapt to his feet and disappeared into the bedroom, returning a few minutes later. "Why don't you go get cleaned up. There's a black suitcase at the foot of the bed. You should find everything you need in there. I need to make some calls."

She went back to the bedroom and rummaged through the bag, amazed at its contents. There were several changes of clothing, numerous pairs of under garments and all the toiletries she would ever need. Grabbing the necessities for a shower, she headed to the bathroom.

If the rest of the suite were not beautiful enough, the bathroom was simply the icing on the cake. Grey marble, tiled the entire bathroom with matching ivory crown molding that bordered the rest of the suite. There was a massive walk in shower with a rainfall showerhead that she knew had to be bigger than her head. A double vanity adjacent to the shower had fresh towels, small bouquets of fire and ice roses, and lavender scented candles that completed the spa-like feel of the room. Her eyes were then drawn to the whirlpool-soaking tub, which had been drawn with fresh water, rose petals and what appeared to be bath salts. She disrobed and slid into the warm, relaxing water. The temperature was simply perfect. She could feel every muscle unknot, and all of her tensions melt away.

She finished the bath, threw her hair up in a ponytail. Looking through the clothing choices, she finally decided on a black and white, bold striped sweater, with black skinny leg dress pants, and her ballet flats from the night before. She found a matching damask scarf that she tied around her high ponytail. As she admired the outfit in the mirror, she decided she looked like a young Audrey Hepburn. Just as she turned to leave, her eyes caught a crystal, grenade shaped bottle with a pink liquid in it. A small tag attached to the neck of the bottle had her name scrolled in red ink. She took the cap off and spritzed it into the air; the smell was exhilarating. Scents of jasmine, rose and orchids tickled her senses. She sprayed it on all of her pulse points, then just one more into her cleavage.

He stopped, his jaw dropping as she emerged from the bedroom.

"Well, if I'd known Audrey would be joining us, I would've made other arrangements." He laughed. She was beginning to love the sound of that laugh.

As they headed outside, she saw that Red had prepared a horse drawn carriage ride of the city for her. Afterwards, Dembe met up to chauffeur them for the rest of the day. Lunch was on the East River at a small hole-in-the-wall bistro, and dinner was at a French restaurant in Hoboken, New Jersey. A stroll through Central Park's Olmstead Flower Bed was the final touch to the evening. Lizzie moved from New Jersey to New York half way through her schooling and just after she broke up with Tom. She had never really taken the time to enjoy the city the way she did today. It was like she'd known Red for years, and she was able talk to him so easily, without fear of judgment.


	10. Thomas & Mrs Reddington

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet and peaceful. Lizzie was curled up next to Red on the seat, their hands intertwined. Dembe pulled the black Mercedes Maybach up to the entrance of the hotel. As Red exited, he was blindsided by a hard shove that sent him falling back against the car. Dembe quickly got out, came around and was inches away from Tom, when Red held up his hand to stop him. Red motioned for Dembe to go around to Lizzie's side. She inched farther back into the car, hiding from Tom's view.

Red could not only hear Tom's drunken state, but smell its pungent aroma as well. "Abnd just ewho sdo you tkhnik you are, mester khot shot? Dqo ewho thinik you can jugst swobop ni and takes n'any womanz yu wnat? Qyou cknow she'cs miwne right?" Tom was shoving his index finger into Reds shoulder.

"Good evening Thomas. What a pleasure to finally meet you. To what do we owe this meeting?" Red said trying to sound chipper, and pushing Tom's hand away.

"Liz vis mineo, nyou sohn odf a bithc. I xwill egt hehr back." Tom stumbled towards Red, appearing to take a swing at him, but he missed completely, crashing onto the sidewalk. Red helped Tom back up to his feet, leaning him against the back of the car before looking him over for injuries.

"Look, Tom, I'm not sure why you're here, but you are in no state …" A blow to Red's face cut off his words. Tom had managed to make contact the second time. Red stood motionless for a moment, all the while Tom was laughing hysterically at the situation.

"Thhats what yogu get, ybou old bashtasrd. You'ore olzd enoghu ot bee nher…" Red returned the punch, knocking Tom back to the ground again. As he grabbed Tom's shirt preparing for another throw, Dembe ran around and pulled Red back.

"No, Raymond! Not here, not now." Dembe glanced towards the car, and Red followed his gaze to see Lizzie leaning out of the back of the car, tears streaming down her face. Red was sure he had screwed up yet again. He hoped that she had not seen him go after Tom like a savage beast. "Get her upstairs. I will take care of the situation down here." Dembe leaned in and whispered to Red.

Red stretched out his hand waiting to see if she would take his it. She was still staring at Tom on the ground. She grabbed his hand and he pulled her into his arms, she was shaking violently.

"Shall we go upstairs sweetheart?" He caressed her hair, and held her tight as the walked through the foyer and into the elevator. The doors closed and he felt what weight she was still carrying sink into him.

"It all came back again Red, everything. The images, they won't go away," she whispered between sobs.

The doors opened and he picked her up bridal style, her arms around his neck holding him tightly, and headed towards the suite. He was met by a concierge, walking down the hall, who was kind enough to open his door for him.

"Mr. & Mrs. Reddington, so nice of you to stay with us once again." The concierge said.

"Thank you, Hobbs. Could you please order a bottle of scotch and some peppermint tea?" Red asked as he walked through the door.

"Right away, Mr. Reddington."

He sat Lizzie on the couch and grabbed a blanket to cover her with. He sat next to her, a protective arm around her, and held her as she cried. She had finally calmed down when the attendant arrived and wheeled the cart of beverages in front of Red. He removed his arm from her back and withdrew the cloche, inspecting the delicious desserts that surprisingly accompanied the drinks. On the white square plate sat a whipped mouse covered with raspberries, shaved rolls of white chocolate surrounded the decadence. "Happy Birthday" was written in chocolate on a thin piece of pastry that was placed in front of the dessert on the plate. Lizzie looked up and managed a small smile at Red.

"I had ordered it this morning before we left. I felt so guilty for ruining your birthday last night … and now this … Red … I don't deserve this, any of it, and I certainly don't deserve you." She hung her head, and pulled her knees up to her chest.

He reached for one of the cups of tea and handed it to her. "Drink this, it should make you feel better."

He got up from the couch as Dembe walked in. "Lizzie, I will be right back. I need to take care of some things." He and Dembe walked into the office area, speaking low, so she couldn't hear.

"It's been resolved for now Raymond, but I don't know how long we can keep him at bay. He will return. He was muttering to himself in the back of the car about how he was going to get her back, he would come for her, and you would be sorry, and so would she. We may need Kate for this one. You need to decide how you want to handle this."

Red thought about his options for a moment. He had the means to take Tom out right now, have him killed, but he knew Lizzie would blame him, probably hate him, and then he would lose her for good. He didn't want to take that chance. Not right now. "Let's give it some time Dembe, and we'll see what transpires. I'll do what I can to keep her safe on my end. Perhaps it's time to get her out of that apartment. If Tom knew she was here, he surely knows where she's been staying. Thank you my friend. Hire a tail for him. I want to know about his every move."

Dembe nodded and they went back into the sitting area again. "Have a wonderful evening, Miss Milhoan," he said as he left the suite.

Red poured himself a glass of scotch and returned to his previous spot next to her. "How about a movie? You pick, what shall it be? He grabbed a controller from the coffee table and pulled up a movie menu, scrolling through it slowly, until he heard her respond.

"That one!" she said. He saw a huge smile on her face as he stopped on _My Fair Lady_.

"I think that's a perfect choice my dear." He started the movie and within a half an hour she was sound asleep in his arms, softly mewing. He ran his fingers through her hair, soaking up the precious moment. He too fell asleep soon after, his dreams pleasantly filled with thoughts of being with her. For once, the night of the fire was not what dominated his dreams. And he didn't wake up bathed in sweat and trying not to scream.


	11. Chaos at Stuyvesant

Red woke, just before the sunrise, the two of them in the same position gently cuddled together, as they were when they fell asleep, as if they'd been frozen in time. He moved ever so slightly to gaze upon her face as the sun began to rise, filling the sky with shades of rose, violet and orange; the sun's rays falling gracefully upon her perfect pale skin. He gently woke her from her slumber and watched as she came to and smiled sleepily up at him in a manner that tugged at his heart stings. He'd really been lonely too and yet, he found himself frightened to do more than just hold her and protect her, no matter how much more he might dream of being to her.

He called for breakfast as she showered, then he jumped in afterwards. They talked about the rest of the performances over breakfast, but Red needed to address the Tom issue before he checked them out of the hotel.

"Lizzie. About last night, and about Tom …" He watched as her happy, cheerful demeanor soured. "When Dembe took him home, Tom was muttering about finding you, and making both of us pay. I fear that if he knew you were here, and who knows how he found that out, he knows where you are living right now." He paused, waiting for her to respond; he saw her shudder under her thoughts.

"I don't know what to do. I left him a year ago, just packed my stuff and left while he was in England, no note, and no indication that I had left except for my absence. I managed to find a little apartment in the East Village. Now he's managed to find me, and I can only imagine what he has planned for me." He saw the tears welling up in her eyes.

"Well, I have an proposal if you are open to it. My apartment next to the theatre has two bedrooms. You are more than welcome to the second. Dembe has the apartment next to mine, so you would have his added protection." He let out a nervous chuckle, almost a giggle. "I know it's a bit soon, but do you want to move in together?" He was trying to make light of the situation, and get her to laugh a little. She threw a croissant at him, giggling through the tears, right along with him. "We can check out of here, and Dembe and I can accompany you to your place so you can gather your things. I want to make sure that Tom isn't there."

She agreed. They finished their food, gathered their belongings and Dembe was waiting with the car as Red settled the bill with the front desk. "Dembe, we will be stopping at Lizzie's apartment on the way home."

The ride was silent, the tension rising, as they got closer to Stuyvesant Town. As they arrived, Lizzie saw that there had been an accident; a car was parked in the foyer of the building. They went around to an alternate entrance and approached her unit, the doorjamb was damaged and it looked as though the door had been kicked in. Dembe took the lead and entered first, surveying the damage and looking for the potential intruder. After he called back that it was safe, Lizzie entered, not prepared for what she saw. Chairs and tables completely shattered, drawers emptied onto the floor, cushions thrown and shredded, pictures dragged from the wall and dropped onto the floor where they lay broken, and there was glass strewn everywhere. The contents of the kitchen cabinets were completely covering the tile floor. She was swimming in her thoughts, realizing that this was the work of Tom, and if she'd been here when he showed up, she would have surely been killed. She made her way to the bedroom; it was just as bad as the rest of the place, except he had decided to spray paint obscenities on the walls. Her eyes were met with the words 'SLUT', 'SKANK', 'BITCH', and 'FUCKING DIE'. Her bedding was thrown onto the floor and her mattress had been ripped open. The mirror to her vanity was shattered, and her desk was broken in two. All of her dresser drawers were missing, piled in the corner of the room, her clothes were soiled, and she didn't want to know with what.

She felt Red standing behind her. "Red … if I had been here …"

"I know. I don't want to imagine what would have happened. Gather what things you can. I will make some calls and get this taken care of." She heard him leave, glass and debris crunching under his feet. She went to the closet and gathered what clothing was left that Tom hadn't destroyed. She was resigned to the fact that she was going to need a shopping trip. She pushed the bed over and pulled the floorboards up, exposing a hidden compartment. Inside was a medium sized box, containing what little bit she had left of her childhood. She gathered up the box, what little clothing was left unspoiled, and a few pictures that were not completely damaged, then whet to meet Red and Dembe in the hall. Red was explaining the situation to her landlady, and she saw him hand her a large thick envelope.

"Miss Milhoan, I'm glad that you're ok. You will be missed. Please take care of yourself. Things will be taken care of, and this will not go against you." The lady gave her a small hug, and walked away.

"Lizzie, how would you like to handle this? Would you like to have the police involved? Dembe can acquire the surveillance footage, showing Tom being here."

Shaking her head she rejected that idea. "No, it's not worth it. Tom has friends that work for the police department; they'll fudge the reports and get him off. I just want to leave. We do not suffer by accident, do we?" She pushed the anger and frustration down, and forced a smile. "Besides we have a show tonight!" She headed down the hall, and out the door to the car. Dembe took her things and she waited in the car for Red. He appeared a few minutes later, and they were off; off to her new home. She knew at least now that she would be safe. In the car he leaned over, and gently took hold of her hand. "You're safe now Lizzie. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."


	12. In The Mood

So, this is it my followers. This is the last chapter to 'Elizabeth & Mr. Darcy'. *TEAR* I have really enjoyed writing this, and seeing all of the love and support that you have showered me with of the last 2 weeks. 'Episode #2' is in its final stages and should be off to beta very soon! I will throw out a little scrap ... the title will be 'Eliza & Professor Higgins'. Also for those of you who are ready to hire the assassin for Tom, be patient. He will get what's coming to him ... I Promise! So stick around! Love you all! 3

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The next three weeks of shows went by quickly. The Kershaw continued to receive marvelous reviews. They praised not only her and Red, but also the rest of the cast. Red had hired additional security to ensure that Tom couldn't get into the theater, and had arranged the paperwork needed for Lizzie to obtain a restraining order against him.

On closing night, the theater was packed as usual; every show, every night had been sold out. The cast was excited, but sad at the same time that the show was coming to an close. The last performance was spectacular, and Red had planned yet another party for the company, this time at a local nightclub that had a live jazz band, vintage attire was a requirement. Lizzie was good that night, not drinking too much. She'd spent years trying to get over a childhood that was haunted by dreams of a mysterious fire that she knew nothing about, and then everything with Tom had been a gradually increasing nightmare; she turned to alcohol to numb the pain and sadness. Sure she had had Sam, her adoptive father, but he'd been a busy director for a local theatre company. But now, she didn't have any sorrows that needed to be drowned. She was safe, protected and, for the first time, she finally felt wanted and loved.

She sat at a little candle lit table, in a simple, red 1950's vintage style, swing dress. A whisper of the black tulle petty coat peeked from the hem of the dress. Her black strappy heals, the curls of her hair loosely pinned, and her bold make-up to match, finalized the era look. A handsome gentleman caught Lizzie's attention from across the nightclub. He was dressed in the same vintage flair as she was. He wore a three-piece suit comprised of: perfectly pressed black pants, a black vest, white suit coat and a red patterned tie. Perched on the top of his head was a white fedora with a black band accent. As he approached her, butterflies filled her stomach. He stood before her, tipped his hat and spoke, his voice dripping with seduction.

"Good evening, Elizabeth. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the dance floor?" The man gave her his arm, and with a coy smile on her face, she took it and he led her to the center of the room. He was an amazing dancer, holding her tightly, and leading perfectly. He pulled her in closer, his lips brushing her ears. "Where you would like to stay the night, Lizzie?" he whispered, the tone in his voice, deep almost a growl. "Would you like a luxurious night at the Ritz again, or would you like to go home?" He spun her out, then back in again, holding her even tighter than before, gently squeezing her waist. He continued whispering into her ear. "Have I told you how unbelievably ravishing you look tonight? And you smell…" she heard him inhale deeply. "Mmm … simply intoxicating."

She giggled at his words. Red always knew exactly what to say, to arouse her. Things had been moving forward, slowly, but surely, between them over the last few weeks. However, he was a gentleman through and through. They might share the same home now, but he had never made any sexual advances towards her. He told her that when she was ready, they would explore those options; for now, they would keep it simple. She knew that Red was aware of the blemish that Tom had left on her, her mind, her soul, and her very existence. He was her ray of light in the dark cave that had become her life. She was not ready for an intimate relationship right now, but if things kept going the way they were with Red, she would be soon enough. Of course that didn't stop the flirting and spicy make out sessions that they frequently shared.

"Hmmm, tempting, very tempting. You really do spoil me Red. I'm really nothing special."

"Oh, but my dear, I think you're **very** special."

She gave a little tug of his tie, and with a flirtatious tone said, "Why don't we try something new. How about we use this tie of yours, blindfold me, and **you** decide where to end the night."

He decreased his dance pace, and raised an eyebrow at her. "So, you want a tango then?" He gave her a provocative smile as he dipped her low, slowly and passionately kissing her red lips. As he brought her back up, he whispered, "Let's get out of here."

 _3 3 3 -fin-_ 3 3 3

Oh my, how rude of me to leave this on such a cliffhanger of sorts. *giggles* What happened after they left? Please, never fear, there is a part 2 and a part 3, lets just call them episodes. "That sounds exciting." So you have been graced with Episode #1, and now on to Episode #2. Stick around for more. I promise, it will be worth your while! J

As always thank you for all of your love, kudos, support and comments! I 3 you all!


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